


Sacredness in Tears

by my_angel_misha



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Cuddling, Eventual Smut, Hotch is oblivious for a while, I will not be focusing on addiciton, M/M, Not really though, Slow-ish burn, Spencer has a big fat crush on Aaron, Spencer has a cat, Spoilers up to about season 5, Still my favorite trope, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Unresolved Sexual Tension, no infidelity, not too slow though, painfully so, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29038188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_angel_misha/pseuds/my_angel_misha
Summary: The team catches a case in Pasadena, California, where an unsub is murdering and decapitating prostitutes, while leaving a cryptic message engraved into their flesh.Conversely, Spencer Reid realizes some things about Aaron Hotchner that he doesn't entirely want to admit to himself.What will happen when the team arrives in Pasadena, and Hotch and Reid have to share a bed? Will the boy genius come clean about his feelings, or will he bury them more deeply in the recesses of his mind?
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Comments: 31
Kudos: 103





	1. Leaving on a Jet Plane

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Criminal Minds fic, so I apologize if there are any continuity errors or canon mistakes. Please feel free to let me know if there are, and I will fix them as needed. 
> 
> Side note: Hotch WILL not be with Haley during this.
> 
> Other than that, I'm writing this for fun, so I don't expect it to be perfect. 
> 
> Thank you to my lovely beta and best friend alonelyghost. Sorry that I'm going to make you read my smut. Love u babe ;)

_There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love._

-Washington Irving

Spencer Reid shot up in bed, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Tears pricked at his eyes as he wiped them away just as quickly as they’d appeared, his body shaking from residual fear that crept through his veins like a poison. Nightmares were now a regular occurrence for the young man, more nights than not plagued with them. He should’ve been used to them by now, especially because they took place in the same spot every time, with the same person - well, people.

Tobias Hankel. Well, technically Raphael and Charles were the ones to haunt his dreams, but they were one and the same, after all. It should be Charles’ personality that scared him the most, considering that he had been the most violent of the three, but it was Raphael who was usually the star of his nightmares. There was just something about Raphael’s cold and calculating stare that set him on edge, fear spreading out through his body each time he thought of it. Part of him wondered how someone could have three separate identities living inside of them without even realizing it, but he supposed that he’d never truly know how it felt.

Spencer craned his neck to glance at his alarm clock, surprised to see that his alarm was set to go off in thirteen minutes. Well, at least his nightmares were polite enough to wait until now. Suppressing a sigh, the boy genius slipped out of bed and to the bathroom, relieving himself and washing his hands and face with cold water. He then padded to the kitchen to put coffee on for himself, smiling as he felt a fuzzy tail brush up against his ankles. 

“Rosie, you’re not supposed to be up this early, baby.” Spencer cooed to his cat, leaning down to pet the grey tuxedo kitty right between her ears. He scooped her up into his arms, rocking her like a baby as he waited for his coffee to brew. Rosie was quite docile for a cat, relaxing into her owner’s arms rather than wiggling to get away. After a moment, Spencer set her onto the counter so he could make his coffee, stirring in an ungodly amount of powdered creamer and sugar. He made the move to sit at the kitchen table, looking out the window and squinting a little bit as sunlight began to peek in through the glass. Another beautiful day in Quantico. Ugh. 

After his coffee, Spencer took a quick shower and got dressed for the day, fiddling with his sleeve cuff as he tried to take his mind off of the nightmares that continued their torment behind his eyes. As the young man was pulling his socks on, his phone began to ring, causing him to jump slightly in his seat. He picked up the phone with shaking fingers, smashing at the call button a few times before actually picking up. 

“Hello?” Spencer cringed at the sound of his voice, which was both dry and raspy from disuse. 

“Reid, are you alright? You sound exhausted.” Unit leader Aaron Hotchner’s voice came through the line, making the man straighten up in his seat before responding. 

“Yes, Sir. I’m completely fine. I’m just waking up, I apologize.” Spencer said quietly, praying to whatever God there was that his voice wouldn’t crack again. 

“Okay, good. JJ just got us approved for a new case a half hour ago. We’re meeting in the conference room at seven twenty. I expect you’ll be there on time. I’ll see you then.” Aaron responded, his voice calm and unwavering, just like usual. 

“Of course. I’ll be there by seven. Thank you for letting me know. See you soon.” Spencer replied and then hung up, not wasting a moment as he jumped to his feet and grabbed his coat. 

He had more than enough time to get to the bureau, but with the way he drove, one could never be too cautious. Spencer was constantly teased by his team members for ‘driving like an incapacitated grandmother,’ (their words, not his) but he preferred to get to his destination in one piece, thank you very much. 

His trip was slow and uneventful, a nearly missed yellow light being the most exciting thing to happen to him the entire time. As he angled his car into his reserved parking spot in the car garage, he pulled his seatbelt off and took a deep breath, ignoring the pangs of anxiety that immobilized him nearly every time he felt them. Spencer closed his eyes for a long moment, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, just like his therapist had advised him to. He would be fine. He could do this. It was just another case.

Walking into the BAU, Spencer’s gait was slightly off compared to usual, fatigue showing in the way his steps fell into line crookedly. He padded into the conference room, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he took a seat between Hotch and Garcia, the latter eyeing him suspiciously for a moment. 

“Hey.” Garcia whispered, nudging Spencer with her elbow briefly. “You look exhausted, sweetness. Did you sleep last night?” 

“Hm? Oh, uh… some, yeah. Enough.” Spencer found that he couldn’t lie to Penelope, with her earnest eyes and kind expression. He was lucky that he had her as a friend, as she never let him go about with his bullshit.

“ _Some_ isn’t enough, sweetcakes.” Garcia raised an eyebrow at him, looking more like a mother than anything else in the moment. Her tone wasn’t condescending, and it was obvious that she was only concerned for Spencer. 

“I know, I know… I try, really. I’ve just been staying up too late, I guess. My melatonin levels are likely depleted, due to the fact that I watch TV late into the night. Anatomically speaking, light decreases melatonin production and signals the body to prepare for being awake. So the more light you take in before bed, the less likely you will be to sleep a considerable amount during the night. I might inquire about taking melatonin supplements from my physician. Did you know that CBD also regulates the body’s melatonin levels drastically? Although it tends to affect people-”

“-Reid,” Hotch began, levelling the young man with a look that shut him right up. “JJ is ready to brief us.” He said slowly, although a smile threatened to pull his lips up at the corners. 

“Yes, Sir. I apologize.” Spencer said quickly as he settled back into his seat, turning his eyes up towards the screen, where a collection of grisly photos were displayed with sickening clarity.

JJ’s eyes moved around the room before she began to speak, making sure that everyone had their eyes on her. “Three prostitutes were killed in the past three days in Pasadena, California. Each woman was found to be headless, with the inscription Proverbs 6:24 carved into their stomachs with what seemed to be a small blade.”

Spencer’s eyes went wide as he wiggled in his seat, looking like an overzealous golden retriever. “Proverbs 6:24 was an old testament verse that spoke on the sins of prostitution, as well as many other acts that were deemed unholy by the early church. To be specific, it says ‘to preserve you from the evil woman, from the smooth tongue of the adulteress. Do not desire her beauty in your heart, and do not let her capture you with her eyelashes; for the price of a prostitute is only a loaf of bread, but a married woman hunts down a precious life’.”

“And were the dismembered heads ever found?” Morgan asked after a moment, turning his eyes away from the grizzly pictures to glance at JJ.

“Yes, they were. They were found in dumpsters near where the crimes took place, their tongues having been cut out of their mouths in a pretty vicious manner. They think that it was the work of a visionary-type serial killer, who saw the prostitutes as scum who needed to be removed from society.”

Spencer spoke up once again, his long fingers tapping absently on the laminated table top. “The visionary may have believed that killing those women was God’s order. He might mistake the voices in his head for those of God’s, or some other divine entity. Many times, visionary killers are mentally unstable to the point where they mistake their own psychosis for divine intervention. They are believed to be an even split of nature and nurture, although I personally believe the latter is less applicable in most cases.” 

“Was there any evidence left at the scene? Hair, fingerprints, semen?” Hotch questioned a moment later, his gaze as stern and laser-focused as always. 

JJ shook her head, clicking to the next slide, which showed each of the women’s decapitated heads in stomach-turning detail. “There was no evidence left at the crime. They believe that the killer is experienced, perhaps not in murder, but at least in petty crimes.” 

Emily spoke up this time, having been silent since the beginning of the slide show, obviously working through facts in her brain. “So, the killer is thought to be a visionary whose main motive is cleansing the streets of those he deems unfit in God’s eyes. Like JJ mentioned, unsubs like him have likely committed lesser crimes in the past, such as robbery or aggravated assault. Our guy isn’t loved by his community. He’s likely a recluse with poor social skills, whose job doesn’t involve working closely with others. Due to his paranoid schizophrenia, he is unable to work in close quarters with others. If he is forced into social interactions, the end result may be violent or unbecoming. If I had to guess, I’d say that he likely works for either a private or family-owned company.”

“Thank you, JJ. The jet leaves in twenty minutes. I hope you’re all packed accordingly.” Hotch started as he stood up, brushing his hands over his suit before sweeping out of the room in the same dismissive fashion as usual. 

Spencer blinked as he watched Hotch leave, surprised once again by how quickly the unit chief was able to end a conversation. As everyone began to disperse, the genius pushed himself out of his seat, unsurprised by the brief bout of lightheadedness that seemed to follow him like the plague. With a few pointed blinks of his eyes, it was gone, and he steadied himself on his feet once again. 

~~~

On the jet, the atmosphere was quiet. It was silent, not in an uncomfortable way, but as evidence of each member of the team being stuck inside of their heads, likely deducing theories about the case. Spencer was also stuck inside of his head, although his thoughts were darker than usual. He felt both sweaty and freezing at the same time, the twitching of his fingers against his knees an unfortunately obvious sign of distress. To a normal passerby, Spencer might have looked completely cool and collected, but to a room full of profilers, his melancholy mood was obvious. 

Spencer could feel someone’s eyes boring holes into the back of his skull, turning his head to meet the gaze of Hotchner. Upon meeting the younger man’s gaze, Hotch crooked a finger at Spencer, beckoning him over silently. Shooting up to his feet, Spencer walked to the back corner of the jet, taking a seat across from his boss whilst he nervously wrung his hands in his lap.

“Did you need something, Sir?” Spencer questioned, glancing up towards Hotch a few times, although it was difficult for him to keep prolonged eye-contact due to the intensity of the other’s gaze. It wasn’t that Hotch made Spencer nervous, per se, but he had a domineering demeanor that made the younger man squirm in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. 

“That depends on you, Reid. You’ve been off all day. Is there anything you’d like to talk about?” Hotch began, another underlying question hanging silently between them. 

Spencer and Hotch hadn’t specifically talked about the young man’s past drug problems, but they were both aware that the section leader knew more than he let on. It was his job, after all, to keep close tabs on his subordinates. And if he happened to keep a slightly closer eye on Spencer Reid, that was entirely his own business.

“I’m… better in some ways, and worse in others. It depends on the day, really. It’s hard to explain. When I get too overwhelmed, I pull myself away from reality. It’s the only way I can cope, even if it’s not truly coping.” Spencer admitted quietly, threading his fingers together in a nervous fashion as he spoke. His eyes flickered between his own lap and Hotch’s gaze, feeling more exposed than he had in weeks as he bared himself to the older man. 

Hotchner looked concerned for his team member, his brows furrowed up slightly. “How long have you been-”

“-Three months.” Spencer interrupted, clearing his throat as he glanced down to where he was picking at a loose string on the hem of his shirt. “It’s been three months, and I almost give in every single day.” His voice dropped down to a whisper, a waver in his voice evidence that he was close to choking up. He clenched his fingers into fists on his lap, feeling the bluntness of his fingernails dig into the soft flesh of his palms. 

Hotchner appeared to be thrown off by Spencer’s sudden vulnerability, looking unsure of how to approach the subject cautiously. “Calm down, Spencer. You’re safe here.” He spoke slowly, calmly, his expression once again void of emotion. “If it’s too much for you to be here we can-”

“No! Sorry… I just - It’s better for me to be here. Working cases helps me to take my mind off of my own struggles. When helping others is my first priority, I don’t have much time to worry about myself.” Spencer mumbled almost dejectedly, turning his slightly teary eyes up towards his boss.

“Spencer…” Hotchner began quietly, his voice pitching down to a lower volume. He looked as if he didn’t know how to deal with the current situation, the older man hesitantly bringing a hand down to rest it on Spencer’s knee. “You’re just as important as the people we help, you know. You need to be in the right headspace for this job. It can really take a lot out of you, especially when you’re emotionally vulnerable.”

Spencer was fully surprised by the contact, as Hotch wasn’t usually tactile with members of the team. It was comforting, though, easing some of his tension in a way that words couldn’t always achieve. “I know that, I do. I just don’t want you or the rest of the team to see me as weak or disposable. If I take too long of a break, you’ll end up finding someone else to take my position - someone _better_ , and-”

A sharp squeeze to his knee had Spencer going silent. The touch surprised him, not because it scared him in any way, but quite the opposite. The sharp squeeze had grounded him in the moment, bringing him back from the edge of his emotional cliff.

“Listen to me, Reid. You will _not_ be replaced. You are one of the most important members of our team, and I very highly doubt I’d be able to find a replacement even close to your level of intellect, drive, or compassion.” Hotch said sincerely, his eyes boring holes into the younger man. 

Spencer squirmed a little bit under Hotch’s heavy gaze, feeling an unknown stirring in his stomach that he couldn’t quite identify. Despite his best efforts, he just knew that his cheeks were turning a slight pink shade that was extremely embarrassing. “Do you really think so?” Spencer asked quietly, unable to break his gaze away from the unit chief’s piercing eyes. 

“I know so.” Hotch replied simply, his lips turning up into one of his rare half-smiles that he saved for special occasions. For a moment, their gazes lingered on one another, neither man willing to break the moment. 

Spencer felt his throat go dry as he held Hotch’s gaze, intrusive thoughts making it very hard to sit still at the current moment. The air in the jet felt thicker than before, nearly suffocating the young man as he squirmed in his seat. He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what to say in the moment.

“I gotta go. Pee. I gotta pee.” Spencer breathed out as he hopped up onto his feet, making a beeline for the bathroom at the back of the jet. He opened the door up and stuffed himself inside, shutting it quickly behind him. The genius was nearly hyperventilating at this point, his mind full of confusion about what the hell had just happened. 

Spencer’s intrusive thoughts were making it hard to breathe, the cramped bathroom not helping very much in the matter. He now recognized what he had been feeling earlier, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself. Maybe if he continued to deny it, the feeling would go away. Or, maybe he should just come to terms with it.

Spencer Reid had a big fat crush on Aaron Hotchner.

  
  



	2. This Town Ain't Big Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team touches down in Pasadena, and split up to begin questioning suspects and those who knew the victims. To Aaron, Reid seems off, although he can't for the life of him figure out why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in Aaron's POV. I'll likely alternate, but who knows lol

After the plane landed, the team headed off to local police headquarters, filing into the main room and looking around. Aaron’s mind was still spinning from what had transpired on the jet, stealing glances at Reid whenever he could risk it. He really hoped that he hadn’t scared the boy somehow with his words, or his demeanor. 

Aaron Hotchner had always been described as an overly intense person growing up, the process of making friends never having been easy for the man. Now that he had his own team to direct, his intense demeanor tended to be a good thing most of the time, although he sometimes sensed that he made others uncomfortable with his all-consuming personality. Aaron kept his guard up as a man in uniform approached him, the other man holding his hand out politely. 

“Hello, my name is Drew Santiago, and I’m the lead detective on the case. And you all must be from the BAU.”

Aaron shook the man’s hand firmly, taking a look around the department as he habitually determined where all four of the exits were. “I’m Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, and this is my team Morgan, Reid, Prentiss, Jareau, and Rossi. Tell us more about what your men found at the three scenes.”

“Well, as you guys already know, the prostitutes were found in three separate alleyways, three days in a row. Their heads were disconnected from their bodies, and a Biblical inscription had been carved into their stomachs with what seemed to have been a small blade. What else do you want to know?” Santiago asked, leaning back up against his desk.

“Were there any abnormalities with what you found at the scenes? A note, perhaps? Any of the killer’s possessions?” Aaron asked, his brows furrowed in question as he surveyed the detective. 

“Nope, nothing. The guy seemed to know what he was doing, in the sense that he was very sure not to leave any evidence. There was no DNA found anywhere at the scene, which definitely makes our job a little more difficult.” The detective answered with a frown.

Reid spoke up this time, causing Aaron’s eyes to shift over towards the lanky agent cautiously, not wanting to spook him again. “Did any of the women have second jobs or extracurricular activities beyond their jobs?”

“Uh, yeah. The second woman who was killed - Marilyn - she volunteered at the local church. She was a nice girl, really. I think she was just a little bit misguided. The priest, Father Hunter seemed to feel the same way. He always had a soft spot for the girl, going so far as to specially invite her church dinners and things of the sort.”

“Thank you, Santiago.” Aaron began with a nod towards the detective, afterwards turning towards the team. “Prentiss, Rossi… Go check out the latest scene and interview those who might’ve been close to the victims. Record any abnormalities that you might find, and report them to me immediately. Morgan, JJ… Stay here and question the other detectives. Find out more about local crime. Our unsub is likely someone who has committed small crimes within the community in the past. And Reid, you’re coming with me. We’re going to the church to question the priest.” 

Everyone jumped to action accordingly, Prentiss and Rossi leaving out the front door and heading to their car, while Morgan and JJ wandered off to chat amongst the force. Aaron turned his piercing gaze towards Reid, raising an eyebrow in silent question. The younger man immediately nodded and headed for the door with his supervisor close behind.

Once outside, Aaron led Reid to the vehicle, getting in the driver’s side and watching to make sure Reid got in as well. He buckled up and started the car, glancing over towards the boy genius and surveying him briefly. The younger man looked as if he were nervous for some reason, which caused Hotch to pause in his tracks for a moment. 

“Would you rather stay here with Morgan and JJ? You look as if you don’t want to be here right now.” Aaron murmured, simply stating an observation. It was his job to profile others, after all. 

“What? No, let’s go. I’m fine.” Reid returned, answering just a little too quickly for Aaron to fully believe him. 

Aaron ran his eyes over Reid’s face one more time before turning to glance at the road, putting the car into drive. “Okay, then. Buckle up, Reid.” He commanded, pulling into traffic a moment later.

~~~

The drive to the church was nearly silent, although there was an underlying tension in the air that made Aaron grip the wheel just a bit more tightly as he drove. The team leader was more than happy to leave the car when they got there, sucking in a breath of fresh air almost immediately. 

The two walked up the front steps and into the church, the older man looking around curiously. 

Aaron spotted who he assumed was the priest, walking over and beginning to speak. 

“Excuse me. Are you Father Hunter? My name is agent Hotchner. This is agent Reid, and we are with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. We would like to ask you a few questions about Marilyn Stone.”

“Yes, I am the head priest of the church. It was such a shame what happened to poor Marilyn. She was such a sweet girl.” The priest began, a frown turning his lips downwards after he spoke. 

“So we’ve heard.” Aaron began with a nod of his head, formulating his questions in his head before he spoke. As he opened his mouth to speak, Reid began to speak instead, causing him to turn his head and glance at the man in surprise. Well, the genius was in his element, after all. If asking questions was what helped Reid to feel better, who was he to stop him?

“Is it true that you were very close to Marilyn? The way detective Santiago described your relationship with her seemed to hint at it being paternal. What exactly drew you to her?” Reid questioned, a lock of hair falling into his eyes as he spoke, although he quickly brushed it away.

“Well, she was an active member in the church, despite her profession - She was a kind girl. Marilyn would help me set up the church dinners sometimes. She always tried to stay as involved as she could in the church, so naturally, I liked her a lot.” 

Aaron nodded in understanding, pausing for a moment before he spoke again. “And was there anybody who didn’t like her? Was there anyone who you think could’ve done her harm?” He questioned, his eyes boring into the priest, who almost seemed to shrink under the intense stare.

“I mean, plenty of the congregation wasn’t… fond of her, because of what she did. I personally believe that everyone has the capacity to be a good person, but not everyone seems to think the same. Although I teach what I believe to be a very open-minded set of values, not everybody will always agree with what I say.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows, feeling a little bit impatient by the priest’s ramblings. “Specifically, Father. Is there anyone specific you can think of?” 

“Well, there was one man who really didn’t like Marilyn. He seemed to dislike her because of her job. He wouldn’t really sit next to he-”

“-His  _ name _ , please, Father.” Aaron cut him off quickly, his gaze boring intently into the priest.

“I apologize. I get a little off-topic sometimes… His name was Davidson. Randy Davidson. He’s pretty new to the church. He moved to town a few months ago. I think he’s a private contractor, but I could be wrong.” The priest continued, wringing his hands together for a brief moment.

“A private contractor? Do you happen to know where he lives?” Reid asked quickly, jotting down a few things in his notebook.

“Yeah, he moved into the old Jamison place. It’s the big grey house with blue shutters on twelfth street.” The priest answered with a nod, glancing between the two men.

“Thank you, Father. I appreciate your cooperation. I think that’s all we’ll be needing for now.” Aaron said with a polite nod, watching Reid pack away his little notebook out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes, thank you.” Reid parroted, following behind Aaron out of the church and back to the car. As they got inside, Aaron glanced over towards the lanky young man, thinking for a moment before he spoke. 

“Randy Davidson seems to be our only lead for now. We’re going to head back to the station, round everyone up to go to the hotel, and then we’ll pay Davidson a visit tomorrow morning, since it’s getting kind of late.” Aaron watched Reid closely for a moment, noticing the same strange energy in the car as there had been before. Odd…

“Since Davidson seems to work alone, he could very well be our unsub. We don’t want to assume anything too quickly, though.” Reid prattled on, his long fingers drumming on the plastic cover of his notebook. 

“As far as I’m concerned, he’s not a suspect yet, but that could change tomorrow. I just hope that we can catch the unsub before he has a chance to take any more lives.” Aaron said stoically, his face devoid of emotion as he turned to glance at Reid again. The young man was staring at him with an odd expression on his face that Aaron couldn’t quite comprehend. 

The fact that Aaron couldn’t read Reid’s expression annoyed him a little bit. He was a profiler, and he couldn’t even tell what  _ that _ face meant. Whatever it was, it drove Aaron absolutely crazy that he couldn’t know what it was.

“What is it?” Reid asked after a moment of silence, scrunching his eyebrows up in an admittedly very cute way. 

“Nothing, nothing. I was just thinking.” Aaron mumbled as he put the car in drive, pulling back into traffic.

~~~

Aaron and Reid just barely beat Prentiss and Rossi back to the station, the four meeting up with Morgan and JJ, who were currently giving the force a briefing on the unsub’s profile. The four stood at the back of the room, observing Morgan and JJ speak confidently to the room. 

After another half hour or so, they wrapped up for the day, speaking once more to detective Santiago about their findings before getting ready to leave. The team left in the same groups that had been in earlier, Hotch and Reid, Prentiss and Rossi, and Morgan and JJ. 

~~~

Some twenty-odd minutes later, the gang arrived at the hotel, Emily and JJ taking their room key, as well as Morgan and Rossi, from the front desk. When Aaron and Reid walked up to the front desk, the concierge glanced between the two men and seemed to falter for a moment as he looked down at his computer. 

“Um… Aaron Hotchner and Spencer Reid, correct? I believe there was a booking error.” The man spoke slowly, as if he were afraid to get yelled at. With the way Aaron was watching him, it wasn’t surprising.

“What sort of error?” Aaron asked, raising an eyebrow in the way he usually did before someone was about to get flayed alive. 

“I think we accidentally booked you with one king bed, instead of two queens.” The man spoke hesitantly, nervously clearing his throat from his spot behind the counter.

Reid spoke up this time, giving the man an easy smile. “Oh, it’s fine. Just book us a new room, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Uh, that’s the thing… There are no more rooms available at the moment.” 

Aaron could feel Reid’s eyes on him, but he kept his gaze planted firmly on the concierge. “Are you absolutely sure there isn’t anything you can do?” 

“I’m really sorry. I can issue you a coupon for half off your next visit, but I can’t do much besides that. Again, I apologize for the inconvenience.”

Aaron finally turned to meet Reid’s eyes, having been able to feel him staring a hole into the side of his head. “That’s fine. We’ll make do, right?”

“Uh,” Reid began, his cheeks a noticeably darker shade of pink than they had been before. Was it warm in the lobby or something? “Yeah, yeah. We’ll be fine. I don’t kick or anything.”

Aaron accepted the room key from the man, still giving him the stink eye as he turned to stalk away with the younger agent. He walked to their room, unlocking the door and walking inside. Well, at the least the bed was a decent size. There was something about imagining sharing a bed with Reid that made him feel… weird. His stomach felt odd for a brief moment as he set his duffel bag on the bed, clearing his throat as he watched Reid do the same. 

The younger man appeared to be quite nervous about the situation, wringing his hands together as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Perhaps Reid snored in his sleep, or did something equally as embarrassing. He figured that Reid would realize that Aaron didn’t really care at this point, but he supposed that everyone was self-conscious about something or another.

Aaron moved his fingers up to unknot his tie, once again feeling Reid’s eyes on him without even looking. Either he was going crazy, or the younger agent had been staring at him quite a bit recently. He pulled his tie out from the collar of his shirt, his eyes meeting Reid’s as his lips pulled into something of a half-smile. 

“Can I help you, Reid?” Aaron questioned with a nearly amused look in his eyes. He neatly folded his tie and set it on the dresser, rummaging in his duffel for his sleep clothes.

“I, uh… Yes, Sir. I just - I’m going to get a shower. Is that okay?” Reid asked, sounding thoroughly frazzled for some reason. 

“You don’t have to ask me to shower, Reid. I’ll go after you. Just don’t use all the hot water.” Aaron raised his eyebrows at the other man, pulling his laptop out of his bag and moving to sit down on the bed, relaxing against the headboard. 

“I won’t, don’t worry.” Reid grabbed his own sleep clothes from his duffel, heading into the bathroom without another word. 

Aaron typed away on his laptop, doing some research on Davidson’s website and credentials. He seemed like a straight-laced sort of guy, but first impressions were oftentimes wrong. As far as he could tell, his record was relatively clean, but he wouldn’t really know until they met with him tomorrow, as well as ask Garcia to run his name through local records. Many of the unsubs they went after were not outwardly cruel people, hiding their bad intentions behind a ruse of complete and utter normality.

Aaron felt his lips pull up into a smile as he heard Reid drop a bottle in the shower and then curse quietly, amusement obvious in his own expression. So clumsy, he thought fondly. His thoughts were pulled back to earlier in the day, on the jet, in the car, in their room. Why was Reid suddenly so awkward around Aaron? It simply wasn’t like him to be so quiet, his usual ramblings nowhere to be found. Usually, the other man would go on a rant about  _ something  _ at least once an hour, but now he didn’t seem as if he could string a sentence together for the life of him.

The dark-haired man seriously hoped that he hadn’t intimidated Reid too much on the plane earlier, not wanting to ruin their comfortable working relationship. No. Their friendship. They  _ were _ friends, somewhat, after all. Although Hotch was strict with the young man at work, he’d stuck his neck out for Reid more than once in the past. Part of him wondered if Reid considered him a friend like he did? Now he was the one overthinking, but he couldn’t seem to help it. Spencer Reid masked his emotions extremely well, and Aaron could only hope to profile the man well enough to know what was going on in that big brain of his.

Trapped in his own thoughts, Aaron began to drift off to sleep, his laptop still open on his stretched out legs. As his mind teetered precariously between consciousness and unconsciousness, hazel eyes and a bright smile appeared in his mind, further confusing the agent about his own emotions. What was wrong with Spencer Reid, and why couldn’t Aaron stop thinking about him?


	3. Tell Me What I Want to Hear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotch and Reid visit an organization that connects all three of the victims to the same place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Spencer's POV
> 
> Also, I just started school, so I can't guarantee that my updates will be steady.
> 
> Enjoy!

When Spencer came out of the bathroom after his shower, he was fully dressed in his pajamas, ready for bed. He was expecting Hotch to still be awake, a little disappointed when he saw the older man completely unconscious on the bed with his laptop still open. He couldn’t help but smile fondly at the sight, walking over to shut Hotch’s laptop and set it on the bedside table. Spencer moved to pull the blankets over his boss, pausing as the man cracked his eyes open sleepily and gazed at Spencer. 

“Shh… Go back to sleep, Hotch. It’s just me.” The younger agent said quietly, his gaze bordering on affectionate for the older man as he tucked the blanket in around his shoulders. 

Hotch made a sleepy huffing noise - which was absolutely  _ adorable _ to Spencer - closing his eyes and going back to bed like he’d never even been awake. Only once the senior agent was safely tucked into bed did Spencer begin his own nighttime routine of setting his alarm and slipping into the bed. This wasn’t so bad… they weren’t even that close together. 

Spencer laid on his back and stared up at the ceiling for a long moment, thinking about all of the events that had transpired during the day. He had only been caught staring at Hotch once or twice, but it was awkward regardless. He had no excuse for it either; he needed to be better. Starting tomorrow, Spencer was going to be more careful with his actions. 

The lanky man turned onto his side, his eyes landing on Hotch’s face as he admired his facial features in the dim lighting. He noticed how the man’s dark eyelashes splayed out over his high cheekbones, wondering how he managed to be so masculine with some delicate features as well. After a moment of innocent admiration, Spencer looked away, feeling guilty for staring at him while he’d been unconscious. 

Turning back onto his back, Spencer closed his eyes and started solving quadratic equations in his head so he would fall asleep. After the fifteenth equation, the lanky boy drifted off to sleep, feeling safe and protected in bed with Hotch.

~~~

Spencer woke up way too warm. He felt as if he was sweating all along the right side of his body, which confused him greatly. Getting his bearings together, Spencer cracked his eyes open, surprise showing on his features. Somehow during the night, one of them had shifted over towards the other, resulting in one Aaron Hotchner being just about halfway on top of Spencer. 

The younger man didn’t know what to do, even more so because he found himself not wanting to move at all. He began to wiggle a little bit, huffing under his breath as he tried to slip away without Hotch noticing. Because God hated him, Hotch began to shift around when Spencer wiggled, waking up with a low grunt that Spencer definitely  _ wasn’t _ going to think about in the shower later. 

Spencer went absolutely still as his boss began to shift awake, the man’s dark eyes opening and landing on his subordinate. Recognition didn’t set in his gaze for a moment, Hotch just kind of blinking sleepily at Spencer for a hot second. 

“Uh, hi… I can’t really get up.” Reid mumbled awkwardly, not trying to wiggle away anymore for the sake of their pride. 

Recognition began to fill Hotch’s gaze as the older man scrambled to get away from Reid, apologies spurting from his lips like profanities. “Oh, God… I’m sorry, Reid. I must have rolled over in my sleep. Let’s forget that happened.” 

Spencer moved to sit up and on the edge of the bed, straightening his sleep clothes out a little bit from where his shirt had ridden up. He glanced over at Hotch, who was now digging around in his duffel perhaps a bit too thoroughly to be doing anything besides distracting himself. 

“I’m going to get in the shower. If you get coffee, would you mind picking me up one, too?” Hotch asked as he glanced back at Spencer, the older man’s eyes flickering down to where Spencer was adjusting his clothes. 

Hm. Interesting.

“ _ If  _ I get coffee? I thought you knew me better than that, Hotchner.” Spencer couldn’t help but tease the other man a little bit as he stood up to stretch out, feeling his back pop as he did. 

“Yeah, yeah… You know how I take it.” Hotch rolled his eyes, shooting Spencer a half-smile as he padded into the bathroom and shut the door behind him with a soft click.

“Yeah, maybe too well.” Spencer mumbled to himself as he went over to his duffel bag, getting dressed for the day. He pulled on some dark-wash jeans that were just a tad too big around the waist. On top he wore a comfy, black v-neck, pulling a soft cardigan on over everything. The dark blue cardigan covered his hands if he didn’t roll the sleeves up, but he enjoyed the feeling of the soft cotton on his hands. 

After he was dressed and looked relatively presentable, he headed downstairs to get coffee, walking into the small dining room area. He poured two cups of coffee, adding in an unhealthy amount of cream and sugar for himself, and just a bit for Hotch. It was just like the self-proclaimed tough guy to take his coffee almost black. It was endearing, but also quite amusing if one were to compare their coffee orders. 

Wandering back upstairs, Spencer pondered Hotch’s body language earlier in the room. Multiple times, the older agent had glanced away from him after being caught staring. He had rummaged around in his duffel for no other reason than distracting himself. When their gazes did meet, they seemed to last for longer than usual, although Spencer was usually the first one to break it. Considering Hotch’s body language, he was either nervous, guilty, anxious, or attracted to Spencer. So, definitely one of the first three.

Walking back into the room, the younger agent set Hotch’s coffee onto the dresser, slipping back into bed with his own. He cracked his laptop open, doing some surface-level research on the town and its prior and present criminal activity. 

Pasadena wasn’t too well-known for crime, many neighborhoods relatively crime free, save for a few minor burglaries here and there. Of course, there were exceptions, as there were nearly anywhere. There was a few specific neighborhoods in the east side of town that catered to both prostitution and drug crimes, but most civilians steered clear of those areas. 

Their three victims had lived and worked in those neighborhoods before their untimely demise, two of the three having lived there for their entire lives. One of the victims had serious drug issues, while another had a few minor criminal charges for tax evasion and fraud. Getting an idea, Spencer pulled out his phone and dialed up Garcia, waiting patiently for her to pick up.

“Hello, lovely! You have reached the one and only goddess of the behavioral analysis unit. Tell me your wish and it will be answered, young one.” Her voice was as bubbly as usual, the vague sound of typing echoing in the background of the call. 

“Hey, Garcia. Can you work some magic for me?” Spencer asked with a quiet laugh, typing away on his own laptop for a moment.

“Always, sweetness. What can I do for you?” She responded in a peppy manner.

“All three victims lived in the same neighborhood. Actually, the first and the third victim lived just two streets over from one another. The second victim lived a few blocks away, but their close proximity means that the unsub probably lives in the area as well. Do you see anywhere all three victims might’ve frequented? Maybe they all visit the same bank or grocery store?”

Typing was all Spencer heard for a good three minutes, before Garcia clicked her tongue and spoke over the line. “Bingo! All three of the victims frequented the same food bank at least once in the past few months. It’s a local place that has nearly one hundred volunteers. It’s located right on the intersection of fourth and Greene. According to my research, the volunteers are all connected to the local churches. Three churches, to be exact. Trinity Methodist, Our Lady of the Peace, and Middletown Methodist. They’re all-”

“-Wait, wait. You said Middletown Methodist? The most recent victim went to that church. She volunteered there for dinners and events. I think we need to take a little trip to the food bank today. Thank you, Garcia - you’re awesome.” Spencer said as he smiled to himself. 

“Oh, I know. Talk later, cutie pie.” 

As Spencer hung up, he texted the team’s group chat, sharing what Garcia had found with them. He was communicating with Morgan and Prentiss when Hotch left the bathroom, dressed in yet another one of his suits. 

“Hotch… Garcia found a connection between the three victims. Turns out all three of them visited the same food bank. The food bank has volunteers from three local churches. Take a guess at what one of them is.” 

“Middletown Methodist?” Hotch inquired, looking hopeful for a brief moment.

“Bingo.” Spencer answered as he set his laptop aside, getting up to pull on his shoes and grab his keys. 

“Message the others on the… group thing-y and tell them to get to the station to brief the detectives on what we’ve found. You and I are going to the food bank. Remember, our unsub is most likely between the ages of thirty and thirty-five, caucasian, quiet. He won’t want to talk to us. He might have issues complying with authority. Hopefully that’ll narrow down the search somewhat.” Hotch spoke as he gathered his things and grabbed his keys. “With any luck, we’ll have the guy within the day.”

~~~

The drive to the food bank was somewhat silent, tension hanging thick and obvious in the air. Once they arrived, the two walked inside, and were greeted by an overly peppy young woman. She appeared to be in her early to mid-twenties, with blonde hair and an annoyingly enthusiastic gait to her step. 

“Hello, boys! What can I help you with today?” She asked, thankfully calming down a little bit as the two pulled out their badges. “Oh, you’re here about those women that were killed, aren’t you? It was such a shame. The community will forever mourn their losses.”

“Yes, it’s quite tragic,” Hotch began as he glanced around the room before turning his eyes back towards the young woman. “We were hoping to ask you a few questions about your volunteers. Are you the only managing staff?”

“Why, yes, I am. My name is Elizabeth. Although I prefer to call myself a team leader, rather than a manager. I don’t really tell people what to do; I just supervise as I need to. I make sure that everything gets done in a timely manner so we can keep chugging along.” That sure sounded like a manager to Spencer, but he didn’t say anything regardless. 

“I see. Did any of your volunteers know the victims closely? Perhaps they knew them outside of the food bank.” Hotch prodded as he watched the young woman.

“Are you asking if one of my volunteers killed those women?” Elizabeth asked defensively, obviously quite protective of her subordinates. 

“No, not at all. These are routine questions. We are just trying to learn more about any possibilities that might end up helping us give the victims the justice they deserve.” Spencer responded in an unguarded sort of way, trying to get the young woman to lower her defensive walls.

“Well, there’s a few men and women who went to the same church as Marilyn, the last woman who was murdered. She is,” Elizabeth paused with a small grimace, clearing her throat before she spoke again. “She  _ was  _ such a sweet girl.” 

“We’re more interested in the men who went to church with her. How many of your volunteers are from Middletown Methodist?” Hotch questioned, appearing to be relieved that the young woman was letting her guard down. 

“Hm… Well, there’s John, Richard, Steve, Andy… Jeremy, Randy... Tom, Gregory, and Kenneth. I don’t think I’m missing any. They’re all great men! They’re super devoted to the cause and helping those in need. They would never hurt anyone.”

“Again, ma’am, we’re not implying that they did. We are simply exploring our options. I’m sure that they are all respectable men.” Spencer stated again, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the woman. Some people just got on his nerves; he couldn’t help it.

“I know - I apologize.” Elizabeth answered with a quiet sigh. “I don’t mean to come off as brash. I just care for my volunteers very much.”

“I understand,” Hotch started as he watched the woman closely for a brief moment. “Now, is there anyone who was especially close to the women?”

“No, not really. We strive to maintain professionalism here as much as we can, although… There were a few men who disliked some of our clientele, due to the sensitive nature of their professions.” Elizabeth seemed to be lost in her head for a moment before speaking again. “Randy and Jeremy used to be pretty vocal about their dislike for some of our women, although I threatened to suspend them from their duties a few months back. Since then, they’ve been as sweet as ever. I think it was a lapse in judgement, is all.”

Randy. There was that name again.

“Randy Davidson, you mean?” Hotch questioned, obviously recognizing his name from yesterday as well. 

“Yeah, real nice guy,” Elizabeth began as she thought for a moment, a thought striking her as she hummed under his breath. “Actually, Randy hasn’t shown up to volunteer in about a week or so, now that I think about it.”

Reid and Hotch shared a look, appearing to be on the same wavelength about Randy’s suspicious activity.

“And can you tell us anything else about him? His personality, maybe? Do you happen to know his age, and if he’s had any other issues in the past?” Spencer prodded as he scribbled the man’s name atop a fresh sheet of paper in his notebook.

“Well, I can tell you about his age and personality, but besides that, I don’t know much about him. He tends to keep to himself a lot, and since this is a volunteer-run organization, we don’t do background checks. We don’t really  _ need _ to. Our volunteers come from local churches.” Elizabeth explained, thinking for just a moment. “Randy is thirty-two - just turned a few weeks ago. He’s quiet… Kind of withdrawn, depending on the day. He doesn’t make too much conversation with anyone, besides a few of the guys from his church. He’s extremely polite most of the time, willing to help with whatever we need.”

“Most of the time?” Aaron questioned.

“Like I mentioned before, him and a couple other guys used to talk about some of the…” She lowered her voice. “...prostitutes who would come in for help. He never said anything to their faces, of course; he was too nice for that. Him and a couple other volunteers used to talk about them, before I broke it all up. Since then, he’s been perfectly polite and friendly.”

“I see,” Spencer began as he scribbled on his notebook, pushing a lock of hair out of his eyes with his pen. He glanced over towards Hotch who gave him a curt nod, wordlessly telling him that they were done here. “Thank you so much again, Elizabeth. If you think of anything else you might have forgotten, we’d love to hear from you.” He handed her the Bureau’s business card, as well as his personal one, giving her a smile as he turned away to walk out with Hotch.

Once they were back in the car, Hotch turned to Spencer and began to speak. “I have a good feeling about Randy Davidson. He matches our profile almost to a tee, and has connections to all three women. He’s withdrawn, polite on the outside, but with an inner bias towards women - prostitutes, specifically. I’d say our best shot is going to be giving him a visit.” 

“I have some sort of feeling about him, too. Did you notice how adamant Elizabeth was about what a good person he is, but she wouldn’t meet our eyes whenever she spoke about him? I wouldn’t doubt it if he had harassed her in the past as well. Our unsub most likely has an inherent distaste for women in general.” Spencer spoke quickly, flipping through his notes before glancing quickly at Hotch. 

Reid watched closely as Aaron’s fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, assertion obvious in every movement he made. He would be lying if he said that it didn’t make him just a little hot under the collar. The older man placed a hand on the back of Spencer’s seat as he backed up out of the parking spot, making the younger stiffen slightly for a moment. God, he was down  _ bad _ . 

As Spencer was zoning out, his phone began to ring. ‘Morgan’ flashed on the screen. 

He quickly picked up, trying to sound as if he hadn’t been zoning for the past two minutes. “Morgan, what’s up? Anything new?” Spencer put Morgan on speaker so both him and Hotch could hear.

“Yeah, pretty boy, but nothin’ good. They found another girl this morning, same as the rest. Early twenties, prostitute in the same neighborhood. Her name was Rosaline Whiteridge. Coroner says she’s only been dead for a few hours, so she was probably killed last night.” Derek spoke, sounding a little stressed over the line.

“Get to the crime scene and see if you can find anything the detectives didn’t. See if you can find out if the victim frequented the same food bank as the others.” Hotch began, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel for a moment. “Reid and I are going to visit a possible suspect, Randy Davidson. We’ll be back at the station in a couple of hours. Good luck.” He nodded towards Spencer, who ended the call with a quiet sigh.

“Hey,” Hotch began as he glanced over towards the younger agent, his face softening for a moment. “Don’t worry… We’re going to catch this bastard. Nobody else is going to die on my watch.”

Spencer felt his heart do something funny when Hotch’s expression softened towards him, unable to help the smile that tugged at his lips. “Yeah, I know. We always do.” He murmured, resisting the urge to place a hand on Hotch’s knee. Spencer hoped that his heart-eyes weren’t obvious as he watched his superior for a moment, eventually dragging his gaze away so he wouldn’t be caught staring. He took in a deep breath, trying to get his head back into the game. They had a criminal to catch.

“Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe they cuddled >.<


	4. Things Get Personal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotch and Reid head over to the Davidson residence to question Randy.
> 
> Aaron realizes some Things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm sorry this took so long! I had writer's block to the MAX, to the point where my best friend had to call me and yell @ me for being lazy. Whoops. Anyways, I'm in school now, so my updates might be a bit slow, but I hope this chapter is enjoyable for ya'll. I'd love to hear your opinions! Also love u Kat thanks for bullying me into writing <3

The car ride over to Davidson’s house was quiet, the air thick with a tension that Aaron was still trying to discover the cause of. Just moments before, Reid had given Aaron a look that made him pause in his tracks and reevaluate a few things in his mind. How did he  _ feel  _ about Reid, and why couldn’t he seem to tear his eyes away from him long enough to figure it out? 

That wasn’t important at the moment. Right now, they had a serial killer on the loose, and nobody would be safe until the killer was locked away. Aaron usually had no issues with staying focused during investigations, so he wasn’t quite sure why he was starting to now. Well, he  _ might  _ know why, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself.

They pulled up to the Davidson residence just a few minutes later, the grey house sitting gloomily in the intersection of two suburban streets. It didn’t appear to be abandoned, per se, but it obviously wasn’t very well cared for. The lawn was a few days past needing a cut, and there were tall, scraggly weeds growing at the base of a large oak tree in the middle of the lawn. The paint near the windows of the house was peeling visibly, and there appeared to be a broken support beam on the front porch. 

They both stepped out of the car and walked off towards the house. Aaron absently noticed that the blinds moved as they walked up, but he didn’t comment on it. They stepped up to the doorstep and the older agent went to knock at the door. It swung open before he even had the chance. 

An older woman stood at the door, a scowl making her worn features look even older. She didn’t say anything, merely narrowing her eyes at the two with an indignant expression. Obviously not Randy.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m SSA agent Hotchner, and this is special agent Reid, with the FBI. Is Randy Davidson home? We were hoping to speak with him.” Aaron began, unwavering under the woman’s despicable stare.

“No. Let me see your badges.” The woman spoke as she glanced between the two, obviously wary of authority and/or the government. He supposed he couldn’t blame her, but he’d never admit that.

“Of course.” Aaron started as they both held out their badges for the woman, who inspected them closely and then leaned back, huffing under her breath.

“Are you Randy’s family?” Reid asked next, appearing to be a little bit nervous in the woman’s presence.

“I’m his mother. He’s not home right now, so if you want to come back, maybe  _ never _ , that would be great.” She spat at them, obviously having no trouble disrespecting the FBI - and  _ that  _ was never a great sign.

“Where is he? Would you allow us to come in and take a look around his room?” Aaron asked, a small twitch of his right eyebrow the only sign of irritation on his face. 

“He’s at work… He’s not a suspect, is he?” Her foot tapped against the floorboards, looking as if she would rather be just about anywhere else. 

“Randy is not a suspect, but we hope he might know a bit about the murdered girls, because he worked with them.” Hotch raised an eyebrow at her, standing his ground firmly. Some people just rubbed him the wrong way right off the bat, and Davidson’s mother was one of those people.

“Fine. You can come in, but don’t mess anything up. First door on the left.” She stepped away slightly, her wary gaze still flickering between the two men.

“We’ll be careful - promise.” Reid gave the woman a small smile. Aaron knew that Reid felt kind of weird about intruding in others’ personal space, but if they could save a life in the process, that was more important. The woman simply scoffed and then walked away towards another room, mumbling under her breath the entire time.

Hotch and Reid walked down the hall to Randy’s bedroom, stepping inside cautiously. Aaron surveyed the room quickly to make sure that Randy wasn’t hiding anywhere, giving Reid a small nod of assent after a moment.

“All clear… Look for anything out of the ordinary. Signs of aggression towards women… Satanic cult items.” Aaron murmured as he glanced over the man’s desk, being sure not to rummage things around too much. He  _ did  _ still have some common decency, after all - although he was relatively sure that this was their guy. 

“Hotch, look at this.” Reid started after ten minutes or so of searching, where he was looking at a small collection of papers inside a cabinet that was tucked away in the corner of the room. He handed Aaron a couple of printed maps, which happened to be of the same neighborhoods where the women were killed. There were two circles on the maps, drawn on in red pen. “Aaron, that’s…” 

“I know,” Hotch began, a little bit thrown off by the fact that Reid had referred to him by his first name - on duty, no less. “Those are the neighborhoods where the first two women were killed.” He said slowly, thumbing over the red ink for a moment. “That’s still not enough evidence, though. For all we know, he could’ve printed off the maps after the killings.” Sometimes, people who knew the victims would try to solve the crime on their own. They don’t usually get too far, but a mixture of guilt and dedication leads them to try anyway. The feeling of ‘I could’ve done more’ after a murder was universal, although it didn’t always make sense.

“Yeah, but what are the  _ chances _ ?” Reid asked with a quiet huff, watching Hotch almost indignantly. 

“‘What are the chances isn’t going to hold up in court, though, Spencer.” Hotch shook his head, deciding to give the young man a taste of his own medicine as far as name-calling went. 

Much to his credit, Reid only looked surprised for a brief moment, his lips parting as if he was going to speak, although nothing came out. He made a soft “hm” noise to himself and then looked away, going back to shuffling through papers. 

Even after a few more minutes of vigorous investigation, it was obvious that there was no hard evidence in Randy’s room. It was likely that Davidson knew he couldn’t be held accountable for the maps; it wasn’t hard enough evidence. For someone who worked in the area, he had reason enough to own local maps - even ones with indications of the murders on them. Although some civilians tried to help out with investigations, Aaron had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t the case with Davidson.

Their best chance was to wait for Randy to return home and question him personally. They could always ask his mother questions about him, but family oftentimes didn’t see people for who they really were. 

Just as people put on a mask around their friends, most people also put on a mask around their families. And with serial killers, there was no telling what their personalities would be like at home. They could be anything from sickly sweet, to borderline abusive, to absolutely horrible. Many times the family of the unsub were too afraid to spill any information on them, but sometimes they were completely oblivious to what went on behind closed doors.

Aaron turned towards Reid with a quiet sigh. “Let’s get going for now. We can stop by again tonight to see if Randy is home by then.”

Reid nodded and went to follow Spencer out of the room, walking back out to the main hallway, to where the front door was. Randy’s mother was sitting in an armchair and leafing through a magazine, although it was obvious that she was more focused on side-eyeing the two more than anything else.

“Thank you for your cooperation, ma’am.” Reid began with a smile on his lips, nodding towards the older woman. He pulled the BAU’s card out from his jacket pocket, moving to hand it to the woman with a kind expression. “If Randy is willing to talk with us later, please do give us a call. We’d love to hear his insight on what has been happening in town.” 

The woman scoffed as she took the card. “You mean with the prostitutes? They sent the FBI in about something like that? Town’s better off without them, even if you damn feds won’t admit that to yourselves. They’re sinners… immoral, and disgusting. It was probably God’s intention.”

The corner of Reid’s mouth ticked downwards, his lips parting to speak, although he paused for a moment. Perhaps he figured whatever he was going to say would be better off left unsaid. He looked physically upset, maybe not to the naked eye, but Aaron could tell.

Aaron’s fingers twitched with the need to reach out and touch Spencer, brush his fingers along his hand, lean into his side, comfort him in some way, but he didn’t. Instead he spoke for the both of them, watching Davidson’s mother and trying to hold back his contempt. “With all due respect, ma’am, the only thing those women are right now is dead. And the only thing  _ we _ have right now is grieving families. We want to bring justice to the victims, and make sure nothing like this happens ever again, because nobody deserves what they went through. Once again, we ask that you contact us with any information you might think of. Thank you for your cooperation, and have a great night.” Aaron turned to leave with Reid, unsaid words rumbling around in his brain, aching to be free.

Sometimes it was hard to be polite to certain people, but part of their job was to never lose their cool. They had to look death in the eye multiple times a day and not even blink, saving any emotion that they might feel for after hours. It was a tiring profession but saving lives was worth it. That’s what he told himself, anyway. 

Aaron was still in his head as the two walked across the street and got back into the sleek, black car, pulling on his seatbelt and starting the car with a low sigh.

“Do people really think that way?” Spencer broke the silence, not having spoken since they were still inside the Davidson home. He sounded somewhat resigned, and Aaron honestly couldn’t blame him. “Nobody deserves to die. I had thought that was pretty common knowledge until I joined the BAU. The way that some people  _ think _ is just… it’s horrible.” He said quietly with his hands folded up neatly on his lap, fingers twitching just a little bit as he spoke. 

Aaron didn’t really know what to say for a moment, not too sure that Spencer even wanted an answer. Maybe he just wanted to vent. But when the younger agent turned his sad hazel eyes towards him, he couldn’t  _ not  _ say anything. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he had a hand on top of Reid’s clasped fingers, which made the younger man’s eyes widen just enough for Aaron to notice. Surprise, sadness, and… something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Perks of being a profiler, he supposed. “Spencer, I know exactly how you feel. Some people just don’t think about things the same way you and I do. Maybe they were brought up differently, or weren’t treated well in the past. And, no, that doesn’t make up for it fully, but you have to remember that there’s more going on in others’ lives than what we can see… At the end of the day, you know what you believe in, and that’s all that matters.”

Reid’s lips parted a bit in surprise, his expression conflicted for a moment as his eyes flickered over Aaron’s face. His fingers twitched under Aaron’s, whether with the need to get him closer, or push him away, he wasn’t sure. He was silent for a long moment, looking much like a deer caught in the headlights, before he finally spoke. “I know… Thank you, Hotch. That really means a lot.” 

“Call me Aaron… When it’s just you and me, I’m Aaron, okay?” The senior agent said quietly, his voice low and soothing. It was the same voice he used when Jack fell and scraped his knee, or had a bad nightmare, and it seemed to have the same effect on Spencer, if his posture relaxing was any indication.

“Okay… Aaron. Then I’m Spencer, too.” He said resolutely, a small smile appearing on his pink lips. 

“I know that you’re Spencer.” The other teased gently, a matching smile threatening to pull his lips upwards as well. The rare humor caused Spencer to laugh quietly, already looking so much better than he had just a few moments ago.

For a moment, they just sat there in silence, their gazes meeting every now and then as the two succumbed to their thoughts. After a long moment Aaron realized that he should probably pull his hand away from Spencer’s, so he placed his hand back onto his own lap, although he itched to touch him again. 

And if Spencer looked a little disappointed by that, then maybe it was just Aaron’s imagination.

“Come on, let’s get lunch before we head back to the station. I saw a little diner on the way into town that I wanted to try. I think the team’s got everything under control for now. There’s not much more we can do until Davidson gets back from work, anyway. How’s that sound?” Aaron asked, trying his very best not to sound like a teenager asking someone out on a first date. His brain needed to shut up, thank you very much.

“Yeah, let’s do that. I could use some lunch.” He smiled at Hotch, his hazel eyes gleaming with happiness for the first time in… he didn’t even remember. Regardless of how long it had been, seeing Spencer smile made the senior agent happy as well, although he couldn’t really explain why.

The ride over to the diner was nearly silent in a comfortable sort of way, with Hotch glancing over towards Spencer every now and again only to see the lanky man staring out the window with the ghost of a smile on his lips. He tried his best not to stare, partially because he was driving but mostly because he didn’t want to be weird. 

All of a sudden, his next thought hit him like a train. Oh, God… he was crushing. Aaron was crushing  _ hard _ on Spencer. He wasn’t sure how that made him feel just yet, but he did know that he was now sure of it. The older man hadn’t had a crush on anyone since Haley in high school. The thought of his late wife made his mood drop for a moment, although even memories of her couldn’t bring him fully down right now. Part of him felt guilty for having a crush on  _ anyone _ after Haley’s death, but he knew that she would’ve wanted him to be happy. At least, that’s what he wanted to think.

A few minutes later, he pulled into the diner’s parking lot and walked into the restaurant with Spencer, sitting down with him in a corner booth. The mid-afternoon sun was shining in through a window to their right, encasing Spencer in a hue of golden sunlight. He looked absolutely beautiful. 

Aaron couldn’t help but stare at the younger man for a moment, although the arrival of their waitress made him look away. He ordered himself a normal cheeseburger with fries, while Spencer ordered a strawberry pecan salad, the agents thanking the waitress as she walked away.

For a moment, he wondered if Spencer noticed his staring and was going to maybe call him out on it, but the younger agent simply smiled at Hotch as he spoke.

“This is nice.” Spencer commented as he glanced around the diner before meeting Aaron’s eyes again, the young man pushing a hand up through his shaggy hair.   
“Yeah, it really is… you and I don’t do this often enough.” The dark-haired man began with a small grin that was reserved solely for Spencer Reid.

At Aaron’s words, his cheeks flushed, his eyes dropping down to the table in an almost bashful manner. “I, uh… I meant the diner is nice.” Spencer turned his eyes back up towards Hotch’s, that unrecognizable expression in his gaze as he smiled. “But this is really nice, too.” 

Aaron just felt like he swallowed his heart as the younger man fixed him with whatever look  _ that _ was yet again, part of him yearning to reach out and brush his fingers through Spencer’s hair, or trace over his sharp jawline with his lips. Yeah, he was in for it. How hadn’t he realized his feelings sooner?

More amicable silence followed as they waited for their food, although the atmosphere was laden with an underlying tension now. It wasn’t a bad thing, per se, but it kept Aaron on the edge of his seat until the waitress brought their food over. 

Hotch thanked her politely before he started in on his burger, groaning softly as he bit into the well-seasoned hamburger meat. He swallowed his bite and glanced at Spencer to ask how his salad was, noticing a light dusting of pink on the younger agent’s cheeks once again. Well, that was interesting.

They traded small talk between bites as they finished off their food pretty quickly, considering that the both of them had skipped breakfast in the morning. When it was time to pay the bill, Aaron took the slip of paper and shook his head fondly as Spencer tried to swipe it off the table. 

“I don’t think so, Spencer. Let me treat you, alright?” Aaron chuckled just a bit as he gave his card to the waitress, eliciting what could only be described as a pout; it was absolutely  _ adorable _ .

“Fine, but I’m treating you next time.” Spencer murmured as he finished off his drink, wetting his lips as he leaned back into the booth. 

“You can try, but I’m not promising anything.” Aaron gaze tracked the movement of his tongue, smiling to himself and tucking his wallet away after the waitress brought his card back. He tipped her well, scribbling his signature down at the bottom of the check. He really liked the sound of ‘next time’. 

As the two headed back out to the car, the dark-haired man couldn’t help but realize that he hadn’t been this content around someone in a long time, much less on a case. Realistically, he knew that nothing should happen between them. It went against the BAU’s guidelines, not to mention that he was pretty sure Spencer didn’t even feel the same way about him. If he was going to be resolute about his decision, he wanted to be absolutely sure that the other man felt the same way that he did. 

So he devised a plan.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Please leave me a comment or a kudos if you enjoyed! I live off of feedback, whether it be positive or otherwise.


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